


For the Best

by Kazimir



Category: Far Cry 3
Genre: Chair Sex, Desk Sex, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Injury, It probably sucks, It took way too long to write this, Non-Consensual Kissing, Painplay, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader-Insert, Verbal Humiliation, WAY OOC, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 13:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11760447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazimir/pseuds/Kazimir
Summary: Hoyt comes back to his office wasted and injured. You take advantage of the situation





	For the Best

**Author's Note:**

> Sweet Jesus I probably got Hoyt way off. I made him drunk so I didn't need to write him perfectly. Also because unless he's half dead he's probably not gonna let somebody top him. Enjoy pls.

The floor creaked slightly as somebody stumbled into the office. 

"Fuck" a South African accent hissed viscously as a loud thump resonated through the room. You kept your gaze fixated outside of the large window, not wanting to smile or laugh at the heavily inebriated man who had just come in, knowing that one of his drunken rages could easily cost you your life, however funny and ditzy he seemed now. 

"Hey," you heard him grunt for recognition as he leaned on his large desk, finally seeming to notice you. You swiveled around in his chair and took him in. He stunk of alcohol, his hair was disheveled, his black jacket was completely missing, and he seemed to have various new bruises and scratches from what must have been countless falls. He had a slight scowl as well, and was obviously confused and vaguely angry as to why you were at his desk, given that you had never paid him more mind than you had needed to before. He opened his mouth as if to speak more before stumbling a little and hitting the ground once again. You giggled quietly to yourself at the pained grunts, enjoying the temporary helplessness of the ruthless drug lord. Finally, seeing he wouldn't be able to get himself up this time, you walked around the desk to regard the powerful man laying on the dirty floor. He muttered something incoherently at you and your smirk only widened. 

"Okay, come on." You said quietly after enjoying the show as long as you could. You leaned down and, after helping him sit up, allowed his arm to snake around you for support and pulled him up with you, thanking God that he was by no means a very big man. Shuffling over to his chair together slowly, you had another moment to scrutinize him. His sweet perfume resonated from his chest, now mixing with the alcohol scent, and the arm that you had wrapped around his waist allowed you to get a bit of a feel of his hips and stomach, and you felt him shift and his breathe hitch for a moment as you gave a small squeeze. By no means were any muscles very thick or defined, but his body was nice and slim and firm, with a bit of comfortable softness to it. You sat him down in his chair, and he sat back with a sigh, obviously dizzy and not yet in control of his faculties. 

"Jesus," he blinked slowly. "My chest" he winced slightly as you reached down to unbutton his shirt, seeing dark, large bruises littered around his slim torso. Your smile returned. 

"Christ, did you fall down a whole set of stairs or something on the way back?" You taunted, knowing him to be too far gone to remember any of this tomorrow. He just groaned. You kneeled down to get a better look, rubbing your fingers over the hurt area softly and enjoying his little twitches and grunts. 

"Oh," he began weakly, "fuck off." He tried to swat your hands away clumsily to no avail. You glanced up at the man to meet dazed, nervous eyes, his sober subconscious mind knowing he was at complete disadvantage, but not being able to escape the thick blanket of inebriation. You reached up to stroke his face gently, the smell of a tense man mixing nicely with his sweet perfume and intoxication.

"Hey," you stood over him calmly. "Relax, Hoyt. I'll take care of you." You smiled as he stared at you with uncertainty, his breathing heavier than it was before. He tried hopelessly in his state to look in control and confident, but the attempt was near laughable. You leaned down and connected your lips with his. You could feel his muscles tense with hesitance and his head pull away slightly, but you pulled him back to you by his hair and pressed your other hand into his sore chest. He hissed into your lips and his hands grabbed the arm that was causing him such pain. Normally, of course, the older man could definitely push you off of him, but his clumsy drunk arms were no match for your determination, and your lips pressed harder against his and you shoved your nails into his worst bruise. His hands obeyed the message your actions conveyed quickly and grabbed at the chair in pain as his grunts and hisses became agonized moans and you finally removed your hand from the sensitive area. You moved your head back for a moment to wipe away the small tear that had fallen from the drowsy, confused eyes that glared at you, and pressed your mouth to his once again as he opened it sluggishly to say something. You shoved your tongue in roughly, disgusted by the overwhelming taste of cigarettes and alcohol, but teasing generously anyway, eliciting quiet, stubborn moans as your hand gently stroked his leg, moving slightly higher each time before brushing something hard. You smirked, stopping your rough assault on his mouth. Looking down, you first saw the blush on his face that accompanied his husky panting, and then the bulge that filled the front of his jeans. 

"See?" You stroked his cheek in a matter of praise. "I told you I'd take care of you." You watched his face contort as you undid his pants and rubbed him through the thin fabric that was under them. His leaned his head back against the chair and moved his hips slightly to your rhythm, shutting his eyes and biting at his bottom lip. You chuckled at the sight of the man, completely helpless and vulnerable to your touch, and now learning to enjoy it. You put your hand down his briefs and finally pulled him out, stroking the underside from base to tip gently and going back on your knees to kiss his tip. He sighed his tension away and relaxed into the pleasure you gave him. You looked up at his face as you put the tip into your mouth and sucked gently, giggling and enjoying his raspy sighs. After pumping with your hand while taking more of him into your mouth, you pulled off as his breathing became more laboured and he began to twitch slightly.

*"Fuck"* He whined slowly, his accent thick and arousing, his frustrated eyes glaring down at you, making you keenly aware of. the excitement that the helpless man roused within you. You giggled as you rose once again and eagerly removed your shirt and bra, grabbing the man's hands to place them on your hips. 

"Oh, come on, Hoyt" You smirked. "Can't just expect me to do everything." You straddled his lap as his graceless rough hands squeezed and rubbed your chest briefly before reaching for your pants impatiently, leaving you to smirk at his need for you. As you repositioned yourself to accommodate for the rest of your clothes being pulled off and thrown to the side, you stopped him short off trying to shove himself inside you. You pushed his hurt chest back towards the chair gently, telling him that you weren't quite ready yet. His nervousness had mostly vanished into a simplistic impatient need, strong enough to for the most part cover his maladjustment at being under the control of somebody else. You took his rare silence as an opportunity and quickly berated him for being selfish, taunting him for not knowing how much a woman needs to be worked on before trying to rush into a home run. If you had spoken to the man in such a way at any other time it would have gotten you killed, and the uniqueness of the situation seemed to only heighten the intensity of your words, his eyes growing dark, and annoyed, but still with the hint of vulnerability that conveyed that he knew he had no power to punish you for your words. You kissed him gently, taking care not to hurt his feelings *too* much, before reaching down and rubbing yourself lightly, knowing him to unfortunately be too clumsy to use his fingers properly. You pushed your chest against him and your face into the crook of his neck as you sighed with pleasure and relaxed into your own touch on his lap. You felt his muscles tense as you stuck one finger in and your breathing got heavier, enjoying the feeling of the man under you being at first confused and nervous of your actions, but then having his arousal grow and wanting more and more of you. 

As your panting grew into small moans you felt the man grab your hips once again, this time not pushing him away, and only slightly fighting the force he exerted to push him into you slower than he had wanted. He groaned quietly as your hips hit his and you felt the entirety of his length inside you. He wasn't excessively thick, but he was definitely long, leaving you to nip his neck gently and moan softly as you rocked your hips and he hit places that your fingers could never reach. He continued to hold your hips, his short nails digging into your skin as you began a pattern of rocking your hips and having to adjust yourself on top of the man in the chair, with him not seeming to mind, but you quickly growing sick and impatient of it. 

You stood up off of him with a grunt, the sudden emptiness you felt not helping your patience, and pulled him up gently by his collar and led him the few steps to his large desk, him more eager to continue than argue for the first time in his life. Lifting yourself slightly to sit on the desk, he stumbled the few steps between the chair and the you before planting his arms on either side of you and leaning forward for support, your faces almost touching. You looked into his hazy eyes as you wrapped you legs around his hips with a smirk, pulling him completely against you and pushing him back inside of you. Your arms snaked around his neck and you brought him with you as you laid on the desk, keeping his face against yours and assaulting his lips and jaw with rough, shallow kisses. You tightened and loosened your legs around him in time with his light thrusts, eventually pushing him to go as deep as possible, his legs wobbling slightly with surprise but your tight grip around him refusing to weaken, causing him to finally rest the whole of his upper body on yours, giving into your grip and the whole of his warm body rocking against you with the movement of his hips. His warm body encompassed you pleasantly, the pressure of the small mans weight comforting and intimate, his pained groans as his injured chest rubbed against yours mixing with pleasured curses, moans, and Afrikaans. After a few more deep thrusts, your stomach began knotting as he rubbed against your walls, and you could feel yourself getting tighter around him and begin to release the deep moans you had tried to contain until that moment, beginning to lose yourself to the pleasure the man was giving you. As his movements became more erratic, quick and rhythm less, your legs tightened around him, pushing him deep into you as you tightened and shook, grunting and moaning as the explosion of pleasure overtook you. Following your lead, you felt his muscles tense as you rode out your wave, finishing with a deep groan and filling you up before you finally released your legs from around him. He pulled himself out clumsily before laying himself back on top of you, panting and disoriented. You rested with him, combing his hair gently with your fingers and kissing his face lovingly. You enjoyed the moment of silent peace before you'd have to practically carry the drunk, hurt, newly exhausted man back to his bed, smirking at the fact that it was unlikely he's remember the events of tonight. It would be the for best.


End file.
